


Chained Heart

by JJKMagic



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Anal Fingering, BDSM, Collars, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Future Chapter Tags:, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Voyeurism, human!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-01-11 17:16:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18428555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJKMagic/pseuds/JJKMagic
Summary: "Devil May Cry" is the name of a bar located in a remote part of the town. Not many know of its existence, and even less are aware what "kind" of bar it is. Nero, too, only learns of its existence by talking to a regular online. At said regular's insistence, and admittedly his own curiosity, Nero decides to check it out.





	1. Of Angels and Demons

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT (6/30): If anyone noticed the not-so-subtle change of the word count: yes, this has finally been beta-ed by the wonderful [sootandshadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootandshadow). And yes, this also means I'm finally working on the second chapter as well, so stay tuned^^
> 
> Don't mind me as I update the rating and the tags as I go along~

It was well past ten when Nero arrived at his destination. The night was quiet in this remote part of town, far-off from the popular club scene. He had been told that the location was intentional, to avoid unknowing stragglers stumbling into a place they had no business being.

Nero, however, had business being here, of that he was sure. With the lingering bitter taste of disappointment on his tongue, he hoped—no, _yearned—_ to finally find what he was looking for.

Though he had left home when the night was still young, his nervousness had made him idle in a common bar down the road until the hour grew late. He knew what he wanted, and yet, the mere idea of finding it sent his mind into a jittery mess. There was always the possibility of him screwing up this _last_ chance as well. 

So he had taken a detour to borrow just the faintest flush of liquid courage. Nothing to impede him, but enough to heighten his senses, to eliminate the "What if?" and strengthen the "I can do it. I _want_ this!"

With that thought guiding his hands, Nero pushed open the bar’s door in front of him. There was no bouncer present and no line. With each step, he left behind the quiet of night and the neon sign of the bar that had guided him, the letters glowing a deep red against the darkened stone of the building.

At first glance, there was nothing of interest to see: only a small set of stairs that led up into a bigger—presumably the bar's— main room. It was surprisingly quiet, Nero only catching a faint bass reverberating in the background, the actual music practically inaudible from where he stood. 

The bar was lit up in a warm, but not overly bright light, the dark—possibly black but he couldn't be quite sure—walls absorbing part of the illumination. It wasn't unpleasant; he might even call it cozy, but he didn't want to start praising the establishment before he had seen what he was _really_ here for. He made his way up the well-worn stairs and took a first look at the room that lay beyond.

It was longer than it was wide, with a well-stocked bar to the right and an alcove equipped with tables and comfortable-looking sofas on the left. Nero barely noticed the man behind the bar, who looked up at his arrival; his attention was caught by one of the sofas instead, or rather, the people occupying it.

Reclining comfortably on the couch was a light haired man: tall, broad-shouldered and the epitome of relaxation. He wasn't who caught Nero's attention though; no, his gaze was drawn to the second man sitting to his right, if _sitting_ could even be used to describe his position. He was practically sprawled across the other man's lap, head lowered to rest on the man's shoulder, eyes closed in bliss as the other’s hand carded slow strokes through his hair. The collar on his neck glimmered even in the muted light of the room.

Nero swallowed, for a moment overwhelmed by _want_ , but he could feel the man behind the bar watching him stare, so he forced himself to look away and approach the counter. As Nero did so, his eyes caught light spilling out from what, at first glance, he had thought to be a wall, but turned out to be a room divider consisting of broad straps of what looked like leather, if the way they glinted in the light was anything to go by.

He had the sudden feeling that the _actual_ bar was beyond there, seeing as except for the couple on the couch, the room was devoid of customers. The music, that had only grown faintly louder, also seemed to be originating from the other side.

He was distracted by imagining just what he might find behind that wall, until his gaze met that of the man behind the bar, and suddenly he couldn't look away anymore. There was just something about him, an almost palpable aura of confidence. It was as if the man's gaze alone demanded that Nero look at him.

The man was smiling, but it did not quite reach his eyes. His expression wasn't unwelcoming, but guarded in a way.

"A new face," he said in lieu of greeting. "What brings you here?"

At that point, Nero couldn't shake the feeling that the man was somehow skeptical of him. Maybe he suspected that Nero was unaware of what kind of bar he had just entered, even though Nero knew all too well.

"I was told this place might fit my... expectations, so I came to take a look," Nero told him, watching the man's face somehow grow more guarded.

"Do you have a name?"

At that, Nero paused, a sense of dread growing in him. Was this place possibly invitation-only? If so, the guy who had almost exuberantly encouraged him to check it out had clearly neglected to tell him _that_ tidbit of important information.

Ignoring the dread settling firmly in his gut, he decided to answer honestly. What else could he do? 

“The name's Nero.”

And just like that the man's expression changed, his smile growing wide and earnest. "Nero! Glad you could make it! You didn't sound too sure about coming when we wrote the other day.”

Oh. Apparently this was the very man he had thought about just a second ago. Nero hadn't expected to actually meet him when he had decided to take him up on his offer.  Not wanting to seem rude, he wracked his brain to remember his name. "...Dante, right?"

"The one and only!" the man proclaimed with a grin. "I apologize for the rough greeting. I take full responsibility for everything that happens in this here establishment, so I like to know who I’m letting in beforehand." Dante sounded genuinely apologetic, even as he gave Nero an obvious once over, making the younger man take just the tiniest step backward. Dante just kept grinning, leaning on the top of the bar in a display of nonchalance. "So, you're looking for someone to show you the reins, yeah?"

Heat rushed through Nero's body at the implication. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure that included his face as well. He cleared his throat, lowering his head slightly in an attempt to make his sudden flush less noticeable. "You could say that."

Dante laughed, somehow managing to sound earnestly amused instead of degrading, prompting Nero to meet his eyes again.

"Don't worry, only decent folk around here, that I can guarantee," he vowed. "You got any experience, kid?"

Nero couldn't suppress the groan that slipped from his lips at the question, unfortunately still remembering said “experience” all too clearly. "Only _ah_... calls and such." Horrible, horrible calls he very much wanted to forget, thank you very much.

The pity that shone from Dante's eyes at his words told him the man understood exactly what he was talking about. "Sorry about that kid, lots of black sheep hanging about on _those_ kinds of websites." He looked visibly chagrined by that fact.

"Yeah, I figured. But I didn't want to meet anybody when I couldn't be sure—” Nero stopped himself there, suddenly feeling unsure about his own reasoning. “It... just seemed like the better option at the time."

"No, no, no, you did the right thing, kid. Well, the best thing would have been coming here right from the start, but you can't help what you don't know, right?"

Nero thought that he was trying to be supportive, but the grin that seemed almost etched onto Dante's face at this point didn't exactly help the matter.

After a moment of silence, Nero received what he figured was supposed to be a pat on the shoulder, but Dante's hand lingered, and Nero wasn't entirely sure what to make of that.

"But now that you _are_ here, well, welcome to _Devil May Cry_ ," Dante said, the hand not resting on Nero's shoulder moving with great flourish toward the admittedly unimpressive bar interior. Then he leaned in, suddenly _very_ close to Nero. "Also, I don't wanna hear any comments about the name, okay? I, too, was young once, you know? Anyway."

At that, Dante stood up straight again and his hand, thankfully, left Nero's shoulder.

Don't get him wrong. Dante didn't seem like a bad guy. Nero just couldn't read him at all, and the nerves he had tried to drown with a few cheap beers earlier were already starting to resurface. He didn't like it. Dante probably meant well, but at the moment it was just a little too much.

"You can probably already tell, but this here area is the lounge bar,” Dante told him, drawing Nero from his own thoughts. “People come out here when they just wanna sit back and relax, or talk to little ol' me. Just kidding. I'm usually in the back myself, just keeping an eye on things, you know?" he asked, as if Nero actually _could_ know, leaving him to nod along as Dante continued talking. "But V's back there right now so I figured I could take a little break,” Dante went on, but Nero honestly wasn't even listening anymore. His attention was drawn to the black leather separating Dante's so-called "lounge bar" from... well, what exactly Nero didn't know, but he knew that he very much wanted to.

"Yeah," Dante said suddenly, a knowing smile on his lips, "that's where the _real_ music plays, not just literally, if you know what I mean.” But suddenly his smile faltered, as if he had just remembered something."It's a little late though, so most folks will already have found their playmate for the night."

"No, I know," Nero assured him quickly. After all, it had been partially intentional on his part. "I don't–"

"No, it's fine," Dante interrupted him. "Feel free to talk and mingle. Or, you know, if it's a little much, it's okay if you just take a look for now, too."

Nero's eyes widened in surprise, wondering if he was that obvious or if the other man was just that good at reading people. If Dante's grin was anything to go by it was probably the former.

"Look, I got this Dom here, practically a local celebrity at this point, so it's difficult to get a hold of him, but I’ll see if I can get him to talk to you. Not making any promises though. It's still up to you to convince him.” Dante winked at him, so quickly that Nero wasn’t sure if he hadn’t just imagined it. “He’s not a bad guy though, definitely qualified for the job.”

 _Job?_ Nero hadn’t been aware that he was suddenly considered a “job” now.

Dante just shot him another grin, which Nero quickly came to recognize was one of the man's trademarks. Was Nero really that easy to read?

“Don’t worry, darling. Go on, take a look. But–” Dante paused once more, looking at him. “Dress code’s black, I'm afraid.”

Nero blinked, needing a moment to process that statement after everything he had just been told.

“Oh, right,” he said, a little dumbly, when he finally caught up, unzipping his favorite blue jacket and letting it slip off of his shoulders.

He hadn't known if any specific dress code was in place, but black was always a safe option, so he had chosen pants and a plain tank top both of which he happened to own in that color.

“Is there anywhere I can put this?” Nero asked, jacket now in his hands.

Dante seemed almost surprised for a moment, before smiling again and reaching for the garment. “Sure, you can leave it with me. I promise I'll take good care of it.”

Nero handed the jacket over and Dante put it somewhere behind the bar, out of sight. Then he turned around, looking at Nero once more, and that _grin_ , well, Nero tried to ignore it. But it was impossible to ignore Dante's comment. “Looking good there, _honey_ , go have some fun.”

Nero was about to do just that, when he paused once more, against his better judgment. 

“What about you?” he asked, and Dante's eyes widened in confusion. For a moment Nero felt proud at having caught the man off-guard, but it didn't last long. “You're a Dom, aren't you?”

He honestly wasn't sure why he was asking. It was obvious in the way Dante held himself, the way he seemed able to tell Nero what to do without needing words. Yet, he hadn’t even mentioned it, immediately suggesting Nero find someone else, in fact going so far as to offer to find someone _for_ him. Nero just didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one.

Dante just stared at him for a moment, and then he started laughing. “ _Me?_ No, no, no, kid. I'm not taking on any new Subs. I’m getting old, you see? It's difficult enough to entertain my _own_ Subs at times,” Dante told him, adding a secretive wink that, again, didn't really tell Nero anything.

Dante was clearly exaggerating. He was in no way older than 40, but Nero let it go. 

“If you say so…”

“I do. Now, shoo, I've got a business to run here,” Dante said, thusly ending the conversation, and proceeded to… sit down and grab some magazine that he had apparently lying around behind the counter.

‘ _Business my ass…_ ’ Nero thought to himself, turning his back on the other man, and finally stepping through into the adjoined room.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he found there. It was too much to take in all at once, and not just because of the sudden change in color scheme; Nero suddenly found his world dipped into a dark red hue. 

The room was surprisingly massive in size, especially compared to the little lounge area he had just left. Nero saw the red hue of the room changing somewhere further in, turning a dark shade of purple towards the middle and a dark blue at the other end of the room. But most of all, the room was _full;_ men and women, dressed from top to bottom in black leather or hardly dressed at all, were spread all across the room. Some were only sitting and talking, some openly engaged in noticeably _different_ activities, but most noticeable of all was a small crowd a little further into the room to his right that seemed to have gathered around a man being tied to the wall.

All of it combined had Nero _overwhelmed_ with conflicting feelings. He was completely out of his element and yet… he also felt like he had finally come _home_.

One thing was for certain: whether or not he fit in right now, he would make sure he did so as soon as possible. He was fed up with having to consider who he could and couldn't trust with his preferences. Apparently there was nothing quite as eye-opening as seeing a room full of people engaging in exactly what he had been repeatedly ridiculed for in his past to realize that it really wasn't much of an issue at all, not among the right people at least.

He had always figured that at least Kyrie wouldn't judge him if he ever were to tell her, but that still didn't mean he was eager to do so. Seeing _this,_ though,  it seemed almost… easy, like it wasn't even particularly _worth_ mentioning at all.

And just like that, Nero was excited, _eager_. He regretted that he had wasted so much time, had all but lost his chance to delve deeper into the world that had just opened up before him. 

The more realistic part of his mind reminded him that he would have had no idea where to start either way, and that coming earlier wouldn't have equaled knowing what he should do with the gained time. So he figured it was fine, no harm done. Now that he knew, he could always come back.

With that, his shoulders, that had grown tense without him noticing, finally relaxed, and he stepped further into the room to continue his exploration.

The walls were lined with the occasional sofa, each one probably big enough for a person to sleep on. The rest of the room was filled with small tables and chairs arranged in no discernible order, which led Nero to the conclusion that the visitors probably moved them themselves, to suit their respective needs.

Nero stopped for a moment where the apparent bondage show continued to draw an even bigger crowd. The man was fully tied at this point, the black ropes around his arms and upper body offering a stark contrast to his skin, which appeared almost red in the light of the room. The man responsible for the display seemed to be in the process of checking the ropes, and Nero could see him talk quietly to his partner, though he was unable to discern what was being said.

As curious as Nero was to see what would happen next, that was not what he was here for. In fact, his interest in bondage specifically was limited, and he couldn't imagine ever having the patience for all the knots to be tied and secured, let alone a full harness. They were nice to look at, he supposed, but ultimately not worth the hassle. There was no point in denying that Nero tended to be rather impatient.

He left the show behind him, even, unhurried steps leading him deeper into the room until the surrounding red hue faded to purple. Nero wondered for a moment if it was caused by the red and blue lights mixing or if there were additional purple lights to emphasize the effect, but he didn't care enough to check. After all, there were much more interesting things to see and find out.

There didn't seem to be too many people in the immediate vicinity, most of them drawn to the attraction going on somewhere behind him most likely. Nero almost dismissed the sitting area entirely until he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t say what it was exactly that drew his attention, but once he turned to look, he found himself completely blindsided by what he saw. 

One of the large sofas on the wall was occupied by a man that put everyone else in the room to shame. A dark curtain of hair hid most of his features from view. His skin seemed almost ghostly pale in the room’s light, highlighting every jet black line of ink running across his body—and there were so _many_ of them. The man was reclined, somehow both seeming relaxed and overly aware. There was a book held open in his hand that Nero couldn't imagine could be easy to read in the limited lighting, and yet it seemed like that was exactly what he was doing.

His behavior was both surreal and so ordinary that Nero really couldn't be blamed for missing the other two people with him at first. And yet there was a woman quite obviously resting on the man's lap, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he was paying more attention to his book than to her, if the content smile on her lips was anything to go by. And then there was a man, not so much on the sofa as kneeling in front of it, with merely his head resting on the dark-haired man's knee. The hand not busy holding the book open rested on the kneeling man’s head, stroking in even, soothing patterns, not unlike one would do for a pet.

The kneeling blond wore a collar while the woman didn't, and yet in this moment there was no doubt that both of them _belonged_ to him, though to what extent Nero couldn't even begin to fathom. Were they _together_ or just “playmates”? The only certain thing was that both seemed perfectly content right where they were.

It was clear that the dark-haired man was in complete control, but it seemed so effortless, so _easy_ , that Nero couldn’t help but compare him to the “Doms” that he had the misfortune of getting to know. They had never made Nero feel at ease, so intent on trying to get him to listen to their every word that it was obvious that even the tiniest bit of back talking completely threw them off.

It seemed like Dante had been right: Nero really never should have bothered with those “BDSM” websites. There was no way he ever would have found a man like the one right in front of him there.

Nero's gaze was transfixed; it didn't even occur to him to look away. The dark-haired man alone seemed otherworldly, an aura not unlike Dante's, yet so much more intense, surrounding him. But the whole scene in front of him was simply _surreal_ , and Nero… really wouldn't mind being a part of it.

Nero swallowed, an almost feral longing hitting him full force, and he finally made himself look away and continue walking. The moment he did, Nero thought he saw the man look up at him, but when Nero glanced back the man hadn't moved, still engrossed in his book. Nero sighed. He could really use a moment to calm his suddenly racing heart.

The room turned a cool blue towards the back, and Nero had to admit that the calming color was really appreciated. As if sharing his sentiment, the people back here were engaged in quiet conversation amongst themselves, and Nero just stopped to look around. He had just started to do so when a sudden touch on his shoulder startled him, and not a moment later he came face to face with a woman practically _clinging_ onto him without warning.

“Hey, pretty thing,” a sultry voice purred into his ear as pretty, delicate fingers ran down his arm, “you look lonely. Is there maybe something _I_ could do for you?”

Nero was caught so off-guard by the situation that he needed a moment to process what was happening, and even longer to realize that the woman, despite being obtrusive, held her head lowered, pointedly looking up at him from below with half-lidded eyes in an obvious display. Nero balked when he finally realized what was happening.

The woman seemed to realize her mistake at almost the same time, her eyes widening and her lips forming a perfect O in surprise. She straightened a moment later, her grip loosening, though she didn't let go entirely.

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry. That was presumptuous of me,” she breathed, finally letting her arm slip off of him, as well. She didn't seem too bothered though, since in the next moment she was smiling conspiratorially at him. “You're on the hunt yourself, huh?”

“Uh…” Nero uttered stupidly, having no idea how he was supposed to react to the sudden turn of events. Her eyes widened once more as her smile turned soft. Oh God, he _really_ was that easy to read, wasn't he?

“Oh my. I thought you must be new, but it's really your first time, huh honey?”

“Uhm, I guess…” Nero replied vaguely, not sure if he wanted to continue this conversation at all, but the woman just laughed softly.

“Oh _honey_ , no need to be ashamed! The beginning’s always difficult but, believe me, it's worth it,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Something must have shown on his face again because she was suddenly leaning closer, like she was about to tell him a secret. “Let me just give you a tip: just because we like following orders doesn't mean we're weak, quite the opposite in fact.” 

Nero had to admit at this point he was curious, especially when she continued, “Just think of the lengths your Dom goes to to make sure you're satisfied. All you have to do is behave and you'll be treated like _royalty_.”

Was that how it really was? Nero couldn't quite imagine it; not when his memory was filled with raised voices and _slurs_ when he did not obey immediately (but of course he hadn't, he had no interest in obeying just _anybody_ , after all.)

Nero was snapped out of his thoughts when the woman, whose name he still didn't know, was suddenly right back in his face. “Oh honey, you look traumatized already. Don't worry, everyone around here knows how to treat a Sub with respect. We deserve it, don’t let anybody tell you any different!” The glint in her eyes was fierce, as if she was about to jump up and prove what she had just said, and Nero couldn't help but smile.

That was the second time today that he had met someone who, despite being a little _much_ , was unconditionally kind to him. It felt good not to be judged, and made him infinitely more sure that this was indeed the right place to be.

“Thanks,” he said a little belatedly. “I didn't realize it before, but I think I needed to hear that, so...  yeah, thank you,” he added and was rewarded with an arm around his shoulder pulling him into a one-armed hug.

“Anytime, honey!”

It was then, when he was practically close enough to touch, that he noticed her collar for the first time, and ended up staring at it probably longer than was necessary, and definitely long enough for her to notice.

“What?” she asked before following his eyes. “Oh yeah, I have a partner but he is _busy_ , so I have to find someone else to play with in the meantime,” she sighed. “I seem to have lost my touch though, when I'm even jumping Subs now. Sorry about that again.”

But Nero stopped listening after the first sentence, a little floored by the implication. “Your partner doesn't mind?” he asked.

“Of course he doesn't. He knows he's the only one for me, and this,” she said pointing at her collar, “ensures others know, too. He doesn't want me to grow bored in his absence though, so it's fine. A little playtime here on the main floor is usually enough to get my spirits up,” she explained with a smirk.

Nero _believed_ her, basically, but it was still a foreign concept to him. There was a differentiation between “partner” and “playmate” for a reason he supposed, and he was a little embarrassed at how little he really knew.

“Hey,” she said to get his attention again. “Let me give you one more piece of advice right away: doesn't matter if you're going steady with a Dom or just playing around, basically everything is possible _if_ you communicate it beforehand. Tell them what you want and don't want, listen to what they want in return and everything will work out _just_ _fine_ , believe me. But—” and there, she paused to look at him meaningfully, “find the right Dom first, before you worry your pretty little head about everything else.”

She actually ruffled his hair at that, but Nero was quick to escape her grasp. She merely laughed.

They continued talking for a while longer after that, until she eventually looked at her watch, and, declaring she'd given up for the night, said her goodbyes.

Nero took a deep breath once she was gone, realizing that he, too, didn't have much to do at this point. The room was slowly but surely growing more empty, and so he eventually returned to the lounge.

Dante was still there, but he had stopped reading and looked up when Nero came in. “Hey,” he greeted him with a grin, “did ya have fun?”

Nero shot him a wry look. “Not like _that_ ,” he said as he sat down on one of the chairs lining the counter.

“ _Oh,_ and what might _that_ be?” Dante asked, his grin turning challenging. Nero just sighed and didn't honor that with a reply at all. “Okay, okay, but _did_ you like it? It’s totally fine if you _didn't_. There are other bars I can recommend to you in that case. Though they're not actually as good as mine, of course.”

“No, no, it's fine. It's great, just—”

“Not the right time?” Dante finished for him. “As I said, it's late. V should leave soon, too, so now would be the only time to talk to him.” 

Nero had honestly almost forgotten about that. He remembered Dante mentioning the same name before, and, really, what kinda name was “V”? But it was late, and it was his own fault, so he really didn't want Dante to go and annoy one of his customers for Nero.

“That's really not necessary. I'll just—” But Dante cut him off with a stern look that brightened again the moment Nero stopped talking.

“No,” Dante said once he was sure he had Nero’s attention, “I said I'd help, and since you didn't find anyone on your own, as I suspected, I'll do just that. Now, before that, though, I have just one question.”

“And that would be?” Nero asked skeptically, seeing the man's expression turn unusually serious for a change.

“Do you want to play or do you want to _get off?”_ Dante asked him, “V's very... _thorough_ in his sessions, so I need to know if that's what you want. No point in introducing you two if it's obvious you're not compatible.”

Nero was a second away from choking on air. Really, what was it with people and their sudden, intimate questions? He had the feeling he would need to stop blushing like a damn virgin if he ever wanted to be taken seriously around here. “N-no, that's fine…” he said eventually.

“That's _fine?”_ Dante repeated incredulously, and Nero wanted to hit himself, remembering an all-too-recent conversation about the importance of communication. Nero was aware that he wasn't exactly stellar in that regard. It was about time he started working on that as well.

“No, I mean—” he stopped himself before he could start saying something dumb again and started over, facing Dante. “I want that, so it's fine.”

Dante's eyebrows rose further before his lips split into a grin again. “Learning quickly, eh? Keep that up and you'll fit right in in no time,” he said with hardly hidden praise, and Nero couldn't help the flush that formed on his cheeks at _that_. “If that's settled,” Dante spoke up again, lifting a part of the counter so he could get out, “why don't you wait in my office while I go fetch V.”

Fetch? Nero couldn't help the feeling that this might be a bad idea after all, particularly if Dante was involved.

Dante merely pointed at a door behind the bar, that Nero hadn't noticed until now, not even waiting to see if his instructions were being followed, before stepping into the other room.

 _Doms,_ right? There was nothing else Nero could do, except maybe walk away and ruin not only his slowly budding—dare he say friendship?—with Dante but also every chance at ever coming back here again. 

Nero sighed, before moving behind the counter, closing the latch behind him, and entering the indicated room.

It took only a moment for Nero to realize that Dante most likely didn't enter his “office” on a daily basis, if _ever_. The room was illuminated when Nero walked in, but it was bare save for a suspiciously empty desk and a shelf propped against the wall that contained a few folders, each covered in a thick layer of dust. Dante presumably wasn't a big fan of paperwork. It seemed like a miracle that he managed to run an establishment at all.

There wasn't even anywhere to sit in the “office” except for a single chair behind the desk. Nero wasn't _that_ presumptuous, so he opted to keep standing, preparing himself for a both mentally and physically stressful wait.

It was as if the present was just catching up to him. He was about to be introduced to a _Dom_ , with the very real possibility that he might just become Nero's _first_ Dom.

Strictly speaking, he had talked to Doms before, or at least people who _claimed_ to be, but Nero was willing to wipe the slate clean, start over, open up that spot for someone who _actually_ knew what they were doing. Dante, at least, seemed certain of that, and Nero's heart started beating faster without his say-so. It was too late to freak out now. God, why was he suddenly so anxious again?

It turned out he didn't have to wait long at all before he caught the deepest, most sonorous voice Nero had ever heard in his life approaching the room, threatening to make Nero's knees weak from the sound alone. Unfortunately it didn't sound exactly amused, and so the first thing Nero heard that voice say when the door opened was: "I don't have time to _babysit_."

Nero felt red hot indignation rising within him, forgetting all about how that voice sounded as he turned towards the source to tell them _exactly_ where they could shove their—!

But instead he froze mid-motion, eyes widening and heart suddenly painfully still.

It was _him_ , the dark-haired artwork of a man he had seen earlier, and up close the man's choice in attire offered a splendid view of exactly _how_ far those tattoos spread. It was quite possible that there was more ink than skin on display and Nero couldn't breathe.

The man looked exactly like before, just as breathtakingly beautiful—quite literally so—despite the frown marring his features. There was a silver cane in his hand that Nero hadn't noticed before, and the man's grip on it tightened, turning his knuckles white, as he turned to Dante, who was following him into the room, saying something that Nero almost didn't catch.

"Don't be too harsh, V. You haven't even talked to the guy."

"I don't have to," V said in response, “I _have_ Subs.”

“Yeah, and last I heard they were out of town, so you should have _some_ time to spare, right?” Dante replied, wearing that same unapologetic grin that Nero had faced earlier. 

This was turning into a straight up _nightmare._

Nero was entirely unprepared when the man's— _V's—_ attention suddenly turned to him, not even deigning to respond to Dante’s words.

Nero had the strong feeling that V was someone who didn't show his emotions openly. Considering that it was quite obvious to Nero that he wasn't happy to be here, _at all_ , probably meant that he was _really_ pissed off.

Nero had never felt smaller in his life than at that very moment, with that judging gaze resting on him. He barely even had the time to swallow, though, before V seemed to lose all interest, and turned around again.

And Nero _knew_ V was likely just about to tell Dante once more exactly what he thought about “babysitting”, but at that moment it just looked so much like he was about to _leave._ Nero's heart plummeted and he was overcome with the sudden need to act, _now_ , before it was too late!

"Please wait!"

The words left his mouth before he had any chance to think of a follow-up.

The truth was there was nothing he could say. What could he possibly offer to a Dom like V? Nero couldn't even really call himself a Sub yet, at least not with any confidence. He had Sub tendencies, that he had been sure of for years, but that was a far cry from having any _real_ experience, or even understanding the full extent of the expectations that came with the term.

But that was why was here. He _wanted_ to know. He wanted someone to teach him, and right now he wanted _V_ to teach him, the man who commanded all of Nero's attention so effortlessly, who had both the beauty of an angel and a voice as sinful as the devil’s. 

And _those_ eyes, jade green and striking; Nero knew he wanted those eyes on him, preferably always. But for that to happen he needed to succeed, needed some way to prove he was serious.

He saw V reacting to his sudden outburst, but before the man could even finish turning towards him, Nero took a step forward and fluidly dropped to his knees.

When Nero lowered his head, all he could see was V's feet, black leather sandals clinging to flawless skin. They were pointed towards him, the only indication Nero had that the man had indeed turned. Nero only hoped that it was also proof that V was at least willing to listen to him. 

It still didn't change the fact that there was literally nothing he could offer the man, though, nothing but his desire to prove himself.

"Please,” he implored, lowering his head all the way to the floor, “all I want is a _chance_. I won't waste your time."

His request was met with silence.

It probably only lasted a few seconds, a few _unbearable_ seconds, that ended with a soft sound from V, the meaning of which Nero couldn't even begin to fathom. He could only hope it was good.

Those leather clad legs took a step forward, so close that Nero felt tempted to lean in just to know what they would feel like against his skin.

"I suppose he has a certain charm," V said, and with the prior disdain gone, the sound of his voice was sweet and smooth like honey. "Look at me."

Nero was quick to follow the request—no, _command_ —raising his upper body to look at V. A moment later, a single digit placed under his chin lifted his head even higher until he had no choice but to gaze straight into the other's eyes. Nero knew he was being examined, those green eyes seemingly piercing his very soul.

For a while nothing happened, and eventually that single point of contact between them disappeared, but Nero didn't dare move yet as V straightened from where he had leaned down to examine him.

There was scrutiny in that gaze, even now, but eventually V spoke, though his words were anything but what Nero had expected.

“I don't fuck my Subs. I have toys to do that for me. Do you have any objections to that?”

Nero blinked, unable to process all the implications in that statement at once, but he forced himself to respond quickly lest the man lose his patience. “N-No, none.”

Those eyes remained fixed on him, as if trying to discern the truth behind that statement. Nero didn't know if V found what he was looking for when he rose to his full height again.

V lifted a hand, and Nero couldn't help but track its path upwards, past intricately inked skin and one pink, rosy nipple—he really wasn't wearing much at all, was he?— to reach inside his coat and procure a single slip of paper.

Nero almost fell over in his haste to take it as V held it in his general direction.

“Tomorrow, 5 PM. If you have any other appointments you'd better tell me now.”

As Nero examined it, he saw that the note contained a single address and nothing else.

“I'm available,” he replied, almost without thinking. He knew it to be true, and even if not, he would find a way to clear his schedule. 

He didn't need to know V any better than he did right now to know that, for him, Nero would do almost anything.

There was the faintest upturn to V's lips when Nero’s attention returned to him. Unfortunately, he had no idea what had caused it to appear.

“It's a business meeting. Dress accordingly, _black_ , but show your neck,” V instructed curtly, and Nero tried to keep up, the sudden dawning realisation that this was actually happening slowing down all other thought. “Being late is the same as not showing at all. You might as well not bother then.”

“N-no, I'll come,” Nero assured quickly. The mere thought of missing _this_ was making his skin crawl.

“Of course you will,” V replied and, if Nero wasn't imagining things, there was just a hint of amusement in his voice. “Otherwise you'd be wasting my time. And I don't believe in second chances.”

“I only need one. I'll be there,” Nero said with all the conviction he could muster.

V's gaze remained unmoving, and Nero couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness under such intense scrutiny.

“Hm,” V voiced wordlessly, before turning around, apparently having nothing left to add to the conversation. Instead, he turned to Dante, who Nero had all but forgotten was there as well. “I'll be taking my leave now.”

“Sure. Later, V,” Dante replied so casually that Nero almost balked, but V neither reacted nor turned before he left the room.

The moment the door closed behind him Nero all but collapsed, all tension leaving his body at once.

He had made it, _somehow_. He had a date—an appointment?—with a Dom. And not just _any_ Dom, but one so beautiful and awe-inspiring that it was hard to believe he was even real.

“You okay there, kid?” Dante's question pulled him back to reality and Nero sat up properly, not yet daring to stand lest his knees fail him.

“Yeah... I'm good.”

Dante grinned at him, looking unfairly amused at the whole situation. “Got quite a presence, huh? Don't be ashamed, he's brought tougher men to their knees.”

Dante winked at that, and Nero really didn't need Dante to tell him for him to believe it. To Nero, it was hardly surprising, and exactly the reason he was so jittery in the first place.

“Even you?” he asked instead, trying to distract Dante as much as himself.

Dante laughed. “Not my style, kid. If I ever felt like trying though… why not?”

“Really?” he asked in surprise. That was not the response Nero had expected.

“Listen, kid. I mean what I said, okay? He knows what he’s doing. As long as you don't act like a complete dick, which I don't think you will, I'm sure you two will get along just fine.”

And again, Dante proved to be way more insightful than he let on. Nero sighed.

Could it really be that easy, though? V didn't _seem_ overly patient and Nero feared that the smallest slight on his part might ruin everything. God, and here he had no real clue what he was doing to begin with.

He heard Dante mirror his sigh and soon after a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, shaking him softly. “ _Relax,_ kid. He knows you're an amateur and he still accepted. He's not going to suddenly expect that you won't mess up _ever_. As long as he can see you're trying, you'll find a solution that you're both satisfied with.” Dante sounded so sure of every word that it was hard not to believe him.

“You really think highly of him,” Nero said, as that realization finally sunk in.

“Sure I do, and I'm by far not the only one. He's not as popular as he is because he's an asshole, that's for sure.”

It made sense. But there was something else, a recent memory that still buzzed around in Nero’s mind. “Is it true though?”

Dante looked at him, and, sensing that Nero had calmed down somewhat, removed his hand from his shoulder. “Is what true?”

Nero looked to the side, promising himself that sometime soon he'd stop acting like a virgin whenever the topic came up—the result of growing up in an environment where it was very much considered normal to have sex but very much abnormal to talk about it. But that time had not yet come.

“That he doesn't fuck his Subs? You said—”

But Dante made a quick “hold up" gesture that Nero saw even from the corner of his eyes, so he stopped, turning to the other man again.

“I said he is _thorough_. What exactly other Doms get up to during their sessions is not something I pry into. For now, you should just take his word for it.”

Nero just blinked. No closer to a satisfying answer in that regard, he settled for trying to make sense of everything else that had happened so far. At least that was his plan, until Dante suddenly stepped in front of him, forcing Nero to look up.

“What you should _also_ do is stop looking like a wet rag,” he proclaimed and proceeded to grab Nero's arms to pull him onto his feet. Nero could do nothing but make sure he didn't lose his balance at the sudden movement and stumble into Dante. 

“Much better.” Dante grinned, and Nero was suddenly aware of how exhausted he was that he didn't even have it in him to be annoyed at the other man. “Go home and get some rest. You want to be fit for your _date_ tomorrow, right?” Dante gave him a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

Nero could only roll his eyes and hold onto his jacket as it was suddenly thrust at him from God knows where.

“You're welcome, by the way,” Dante added, and Nero’s grip went slack for a moment.

“ _Yeah_. Thank you, Dante,” he said honestly.

He hadn't expected anything like this to happen when he came here, but now he was really fucking glad he did.

“Now don't get all mushy on me. Shoo, shoo.”

“I won't,” Nero promised as he pulled his jacket over his shoulders, “but thank you anyway. I'll be back.”

Dante was smiling when Nero looked back at him one last time, more honest than his usual grins, and Nero gave a quick salute before leaving.

Once back outside in the cool night air, Nero took a deep breath.

Well, so much for not being successful tonight.

With a single slip of paper grasped securely in his hand where it rested inside his pocket, he started his way back home.


	2. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just a little note with an address given to him by V, and yet Nero has never been more nervous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been an eternity! Sorry about that!
> 
> Again beta-ed by the wonderful [sootandshadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootandshadow).

"This is stupid..."

Never before in his life had Nero spent this much time fussing over clothes of all things, and he couldn't help muttering under his breath in growing agitation. Who would have thought that a simple requirement like "wear only black” could be so complicated?

He had the pants covered, taking a pair of black trousers from the only decent suit he owned—and couldn't remember actually wearing before. The shirt, however, was proving a little more troublesome. The dress shirt that belonged to the suit was white, which was against V's instructions, even if it only showed a little beneath the jacket. That, combined with the order to "show his neck", meant that the accompanying necktie was out too (and would probably disappear into his closet for years to come).

Nero sighed, turning to his closet once more, looking through the hangers all the way to the very back. He was certain he'd had at least one other decent shirt...

Next to his bed, currently occupied by half a suit and a towel from his recent shower, was his laptop propped up on a chair, V's note resting innocently on the keyboard. The search result was still open, and the front of an impressive-looking building took up the screen. It wasn't what Nero had expected. Well, he wasn't sure what he had expected, but it wasn't _that_.

The address belonged to a fancy building in the middle of the city. At first, he had thought it to be a hotel, what with its full-glass exterior. Upon closer inspection, however, he’d quickly realized it was a _restaurant_ instead.

This sure felt more and more like a date; not that the differentiation had any influence on Nero’s stress level, which was already sky high.

"I knew it!" he exclaimed victoriously as his hand landed on the soft fabric of a button-up at the very back of his closet and, as if by some divine miracle, it turned out to be black. At least Lady Luck was smiling down on him.

Nero had just managed to pull it on, and was about to start buttoning it up when a sudden banging on his front door startled him into dropping his hands. He wasn’t expecting anyone; his one-room apartment wasn't exactly equipped for visitors on a good day, and even less so when he was in the middle of taking apart his _entire closet_.

The attack on his door continued, and—fearing for its safety—Nero abandoned his attempt at getting dressed to answer it.

"Dammit! _What?"_ he asked upon ripping the door open.

The dark-haired woman in front of it looked entirely unimpressed by his intimidating glare, and only held up a box of tools. Thankfully, she at least refrained from shoving it in his face, likely saving his shirt from some unsightly stains.

"Got you the stuff you wanted," Nico said as she strolled into the apartment without a care in the world, dropping the box on the nearest available surface. "What? No 'thank you' for hauling it all the way here? That's fine. Didn't need one anyway."

Nero inwardly counted to ten, trying to stifle his quickly rising agitation. It took Nico exactly five of those seconds to get a good look at the mess on his bed.

"What's this?" she wondered, looking first at the bed, then back at him. "Got an interview you didn't tell me about, or something?"

Nero rolled his eyes as he closed the door, and turned to face her with a look that hopefully expressed his response of _'Are you serious?'_ without him having to say it.

He was just glad that he had thought ahead and still had a good two hours before he had to head out, because for as much as he hoped, there was no way he was going to get rid of Nico anytime soon.

Luck was a fickle lady today, it seemed.

 _"Oh ho,"_ Nico whistled, impressed when her eyes landed on the final piece of evidence. "Who did you start fucking without _telling_ me? And here I thought we were friends."

"Shut up! That's not what this is," Nero said, walking over to close the laptop even though the damage was already done.

" _Sure_ ," Nico drawled, the effect only emphasized by her accent, "next you're gonna tell me you're not dressing up for a date."

"I'm not!" Nero denied, aggressively returning to buttoning up his shirt.

He figured his best chance of getting rid of her was to ignore Nico until she lost interest, so he turned his attention to the standalone mirror next to his closet to figure out how he wanted to do this. How many buttons should he leave undone? One seemed pointless, so two or three?

"You look weird," Nico commented, now sprawled on his bed as if she belonged there. At least she was a decent enough person to avoid the clothes currently laid out. For a moment, Nero was almost tempted to thank her, before he remembered that it was only common decency and not deserving of gratitude.

"You can save your commentary," Nero said, ignoring the sting of discomfort the words had left behind.

"No, really, who're you tryin' to impress?" Nico asked, surprisingly serious for a change.

Nero was about to defend himself again, but stopped at the last second. Nico could be horribly insensitive while trying to be helpful, but Nero valued her opinion regardless. In fact, he would never admit it, but he actually appreciated Nico's company right now, because—believe it or not—it helped settle his frayed nerves somewhat. If only she wasn't so determined to grate on all of his remaining ones at the same time.

But Nico was definitely not the person he wanted to talk to about this. He would never hear the end of it.

"Nobody," he sighed, and it wasn't even a lie. He wasn't trying to _impress_ V; Nero didn't even dream of aiming that high yet. If he survived this night without making a complete and utter fool of himself, he would count that as his biggest success yet.

" _Sure_ , that's why you keep sighing like someone just kicked your puppy," Nico remarked, casually looking around the bed as Nero picked up the suit jacket. She was surprisingly quiet as he put it on, even ignoring his lack of a response. "You, uh, gonna need help with that necktie?"

Nero almost knocked over the mirror in his surprise, turning to Nico with his eyebrows all the way up to his hairline.

"What?" Nico asked, suddenly defensive. "Never seen you wear one before, is all."

Nero couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. Under the constant torture that was Nico's "unique" personality, he sometimes forgot that she was his friend, and had been for years.

"Thanks," he said earnestly, "but I was thinking of going without."

Nico made a sound, somewhere between questioning and downright disbelieving.

"Weird choice, but whatever floats your boat, I guess."

 _'It's not my choice'_ , he didn't say, but at least for once he didn’t have to feel personally insulted. It didn’t really make him feel any better, though, when he looked back at the mirror.

The jacket looked way too stiff over his exposed neck, the combination just awfully… _unappealing._ Would a vest be better? But he didn't own one, and he sure as hell wasn't going to get a new one in time.

Nero sighed for possibly the thousandth time that afternoon, and turned, glancing at Nico from the corner of his eye.

"Hey, uh... Nico?"

"What?"

Nero pointedly looked back at his reflection, wondering if he was really going to do this.

"Uhm... jacket or no jacket? What do you think?"

When Nero glanced back at her, Nico didn't show any visible sign of surprise, but the following silence was just as telling. After a moment, she got up and joined him.

"If you want to go for seductive, you should lose it," she said honestly.

"I'm not—"

Nico, merely raising an eyebrow and staring at his exposed neck, made Nero shut himself up.

_'Dammit V…'_

He shrugged off the jacket, straightening out his shirt again, and a moment later Nico was right in his face, fixing up one of his buttons before patting his chest.

"Two is more than enough, loverboy. Unless you want to scream 'Take me!' at everyone who cares to look," she said, grinning widely.

"I—you know what, nevermind. I'll take your word for it, _this once_."

"I can't believe this is the first time you're acknowledging my genius! Did you forget how I fixed your 'unsalvageable' car, _repeatedly_ I might add?"

"That's different," Nero replied quickly, turning from his reflection lest he keep worrying about it. "I've just never seen you have much luck with dating, despite your _'genius'_."

Nico gasped in fake shock, holding her hand to her chest.

"I'll let you know that I have _plenty_ of success in that regard," she said, looking anywhere but at him as she paced aimlessly around the apartment. "But artists are busy people! Can't waste my time with— _Wait."_

Suddenly her head whipped back around, the biggest grin on her face. Nero tried to figure out where he had messed up, but Nico was faster, pointing a finger at him. "So it _is_ a date! Thought you could fool me, didya? I'm disappointed in you."

"It-It's not!"

But once Nico had gotten her hands on some "juicy" information she never let it go, as proven by her sidling back up to him, and nudging him in the side. Nero sighed. He really would have to think of something to get her off his tail now.

But it wasn't all bad, he figured, glancing at his reflection one last time. He looked… decent, if he may say so himself. Maybe Nico _did_ know a thing or two after all.

"Hey, whatcha daydreaming about? Don't just ignore me…!"

\---

The restaurant where V had requested to meet him was quite a distance from Nero's apartment, but, since it was still comfortably warm outside, Nero had decided to walk anyway, to clear his head if nothing else.

Despite being dressed in the best clothes he owned, Nero still felt almost comically out of place in the face of the marvelous store front, polished, gold-framed windows reflecting his own anxious expression back at him.

He could practically _feel_ the judging gaze of the waiter already, so Nero had opted to stay outside, close to the entrance. If it turned out V had beaten him there, Nero would just head inside shortly before the appointed time, but—seeing as it had been half past four when Nero arrived—he doubted that he would have to worry about that.

With nothing left to do but wait, Nero’s head quickly filled with an endless amount of questions. Was this where V usually spent his time? He hadn't made that impression, especially not with all those tattoos. Also, what were they even supposed to do here? Eat? Talk? Or was this some kind of test? Was this where V would decide whether or not Nero was even worth his time?

As Nero contemplated, with increasing worry, what awaited him inside, a peculiar sound pierced through his thoughts, slowly growing louder. Nero didn't pay it any mind, not until it stopped with one final clack right next to him. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the reflection next to him just moments before that sonorous voice washed over him once more.

"Good evening. You're early," V greeted him as Nero's body finally caught up with his mind, and he looked up to greet the other man. Unfortunately, speech took a little longer, as Nero was, yet again, blindsided by V's appearance. Of course the man would be dressed flawlessly. More than that: he looked absolutely _stunning_ with the evening sun reflected in his jet black hair.

"G-good evening!" Nero stumbled over his own tongue when he realized that not responding would be entirely impolite—no matter how much gaping at the other man could be seen as a compliment. "I, uh, took the chance to take a walk. Guess I was a lot faster than I thought."

There was the faintest smile on V's lips when Nero dared to look at him directly, and for a moment he was sure he had to be imagining it, but the smile stayed in place.

Nero's heart beat fast in his chest.

"Why don't we continue this inside?" V asked, but Nero was distracted by the man tossing his cane—the source of the sound from earlier—and catching it again a little beneath the handle. The motion was so fluid that it was clearly habitual—but more importantly, V apparently didn't _need_ the cane? Was it just an accessory then? More and more questions added to his list, but he knew he wouldn't ask any of them anytime soon if he could help it.

"You first." V pointed towards the entrance with the hand now holding the cane, startling Nero back into action.

 _"Oh!_ Sure."

Nero opened the remarkably spotless glass door and stepped in, holding it open until V had entered as well. There was no waiter to welcome them, but they didn't have to wait long before one appeared from somewhere in the back.

"Good evening, gentlemen." Nero was surprised when the man only paused shortly upon seeing V's tattoos, before continuing as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "How may I help you today?"

"I have a reservation for one of the dining rooms," V replied seamlessly.

Wait. Dining… _room?_

Nero blinked in confusion, but luckily the waiter paid him no mind.

"Certainly. Suite Belrose, I assume?" When V confirmed the question with a short nod, the man immediately pointed towards the back. "Right this way." The man waited for a moment to see if they would follow him, before leading the way.

Nero was still confused, but he simply followed behind V and hoped no one saw how truly lost he was.

They didn't enter the restaurant—or what Nero had seen of it from the outside. Instead, they headed through a corridor that was surprisingly nondescript, apart from the chandeliers hanging overhead. There were a few doors on each side, and the man stopped to the left of one such door, before bowing curtly.

"The room has been prepared. I'll be back shortly to take your orders. If you need anything before that, don't hesitate to use the bell." With that the man bowed once more and left.

At Nero's completely befuddled look V's smile only seemed to grow. If there had even been the slightest chance of Nero not looking like he was completely and utterly out of his element, he had certainly ruined that by now.

"Go on in," V said, sounding perfectly calm, but Nero couldn't help but detect a hint of amusement, too. He tried to ignore the faint embarrassment at that realization, and did as he was told.

Upon opening the door he saw, well, exactly what one would expect from a dining room, only in extra fancy. There was a table, probably bigger than was entirely appropriate for only two people, and two padded chairs arranged on opposite sides. The tablecloth was surprisingly simple: white with a fine pattern sewn into it. If it hadn't been for the massive chandelier overhead, Nero almost would have been able to ignore how out of place he felt.

"Can't say I've ever been to a place like this," he couldn't help but admit as V closed the door behind them. "Do you come here often?"

Nero cringed the moment the words left his mouth, realizing too late just how much they sounded like the worst pick up line ever.

V, thankfully, showed no reaction to the unfortunate choice of words as he hung his cane onto the back rest of one of the chairs and sat down.

"Every now and then. The staff is surprisingly open-minded, so I don't mind coming here when I need a quiet place to talk."

"Seems a little expensive just to _talk_ ," Nero remarked.

The smile on V's face changed—and Nero still couldn't quite believe it was there in the first place—turning almost mischievous. "It's not my _usual_ place for dinner," he admitted, "but don't worry. I _invited_ you, after all."

Not the exact choice of words Nero would use, but he certainly wouldn't be here if not for V, his _Dom_. The thought still sent a shiver down his spine.

"But first you should take a seat, don't you think?" V asked, and Nero couldn't help the blush that spread across his cheeks. There was _definitely_ amusement in V's tone, and Nero hurried to do as he was told before he could embarrass himself further.

As it turned out, that was the least of Nero’s worries, though. Upon looking at the table he found himself faced with a new challenge: the menu, sitting innocently in front of him. After everything he had seen so far he had an inkling of what he would find inside, and he shot a quick glance at his dining partner. V was already flipping through his menu with the familiarity of someone who didn’t hesitate in the face of fine dining. After another moment of glaring at the offending item, Nero tugged the menu towards him and opened it.

The first thing that greeted him was the big, stylized _"Bonjour"_ on top of the first page. Nero cursed inwardly. Yep, that was definitely French. Or was that Italian? God, he had no idea, and he definitely understood the much smaller print on the following pages even less. There was also a noticeable lack of prices attached to any of the options.

Nero had clearly underestimated just _how_ out of his element he really was.

"I would suggest ordering something light, but do as you please." V's voice cut through his thoughts, and Nero glanced up, probably looking as lost as he felt, if his recent experience was anything to go by.

"I… think I'll just have whatever you’re having," he said, just to avoid saying 'Please order for me, I can't read this!' He still had _some_ pride left, after all.

"Very well. They usually serve wine here. Do you have a preference, or would you rather stick with water?"

Oh God, this _really_ was that kinda place, wasn't it? How had he gone from a BDSM club to _this_ in less than a day?

"Uh, no. A glass shouldn't hurt, right?" 

There was a short knock on the door as if on cue, and the waiter came to take their orders. Nero closed his menu—there was nothing he could possibly do with it after all—and left the talking to V.

V didn't so much as look at the menu as he ordered something Nero had no chance of even pronouncing, quickly giving the waiter the instructions for their food. With nothing to contribute, Nero drowned out the conversation, preferring to simply watch V: the way his lips formed around every syllable and how his hands moved as he talked; long, ink-covered fingers curling and motioning, as if part of some secret performance.

The waiter was long gone when Nero snapped back to attention, realizing that he had probably stared at V for _way_ longer than was appropriate. V didn't seem to mind. If anything, there was an amused little glimmer in his eyes. Nero would be embarrassed at how hopelessly obvious he was, if he wasn't also awestruck at how incredibly _human_ the other man looked like this.

V quickly caught himself, looking almost apologetic when he spoke up next.

"I'm sorry. I should have offered some sort of explanation, at least. I assure you this place looks a lot more extravagant than it really is."

“So this isn’t a three-course meal or anything?” Nero asked while he wondered what might count as "extravagant" in V’s eyes, if this didn't even faze him.

V shook his head. "No, not this time at least. Wouldn't want you to get sluggish when we still have... _matters_ to discuss."

Nero swallowed. He definitely wasn't sluggish _now_ , not with V looking at him as if Nero _himself_ was on the menu. It was like a switch had been flipped; gone was the human V Nero had just caught his first glimpse of, seamlessly replaced by the Dom he had met yesterday.

"On that note," V added suddenly, "I'm afraid you have neglected to tell me your name."

 _Shit_ , hadn't Dante told him? How could Nero have forgotten to ask? He cursed himself silently.

“Sorry,” he hurried to say, “must have slipped my mind. It's Nero.” That information was received with a quiet hum and little else, so Nero decided to just barge on before he could change his mind. “And what am I supposed to call you?”

The faintest hint of amusement returned to those unfairly perfect lips.

“You may call me V," he said, "unless you prove undeserving of that privilege.” The deep, sultry tone of V's voice was a threat and a promise all at once, and Nero was almost embarrassed at how hot he felt all of a sudden. “But I am getting ahead of myself. That's why we are here, after all.”

Nero snapped to attention at that, because the exact reason for being here _specifically_ was not clear to him, at all. Despite that, it took Nero a moment to gather his courage, and just _ask_.

"So, uh, why exactly _are_ we here?"

Just like that, Nero was faced with the intensity he had quickly come to associate with the Dom, those eyes that seemed to stare into his very soul. Another mysterious smile spread across V’s lips.

“It is hard to play a game without knowing the _rules_ , is it not? So that is what we'll do, we'll establish some rules.”

Coincidence, or Lady Luck being overly fickle again, chose that to be the exact moment where the waiter returned with their orders. At Nero's presumably disappointed expression, V's smile widened.

“But first, enjoy your meal,” he said, gesturing toward the truly magnificent looking display that was swiftly set down in front of him. Nero could only stare.

When everything was set in place, V turned to the waiter.

“We don't wish to be interrupted for the rest of the evening. I'll call if we require anything else.”

"Certainly. Please, enjoy your dinner," the waiter replied, bowing deeply before he left.

Nero returned to the moment at hand when he noticed V watching him, reclined in his own chair in a way that made it obvious he had no intention to start eating anytime soon.

“Go on, don't mind me,” he said, and Nero couldn't help but feel like he was being tested. If only he knew what _for_. As it was, it was safe to say he had never felt more nervous about eating than under the watchful eyes of his Dom. That was what V was, right? Or would Nero failing at something as simple as table manners make V rethink his offer?

The possibility alone had Nero so focused on trying not to spill a single drop of sauce, that he had no idea what he was actually eating. It smelled heavenly, but he was too anxious to appreciate the taste.

When Nero ultimately failed—clutching the napkin next to his plate and wiping his mouth quickly before the other man would have time to comment on it—he looked up, only to see that V wasn't even watching him anymore. The man opposite from him ate quietly, not sparing Nero another glance as he did so.

V looked unfairly perfect even while doing something as mundane as eating; the movement of his hands was ridiculously graceful and controlled, like eating itself was just part of another performance.

Just like that, Nero was back to staring, while somehow, magically, continuing to eat without ever taking his eyes off the other man. Only the uncomfortable _screech_ of his fork against a suddenly empty plate managed to break his trance, and Nero’s expression turned sheepish. The gaze V levelled at him in return was unreadable, but before Nero could react in any way, the Dom spoke up: "Was it to your liking?"

Nero needed a moment to process the words, surprised yet again that his flounder was so generously ignored.

V used the moment to push his own empty plate to the side of the table, only his half empty glass remaining in front of him. Nero quickly followed his example, so they could talk with nothing between them.

"Uh, yeah..." he lied. Nero couldn't remember a _thing_ about the taste. At least it had looked good… probably. "I mean, I'm really no expert…"

"You don't have to be," V replied almost offhandedly. "But you seemed awfully distracted." Nero felt his blush return with a vengeance. "I’m willing to overlook that if it means you'll pay all the more attention now."

That intense gaze still left Nero breathless whenever it was directed at him. He gulped, feeling surprisingly thirsty all of a sudden.

"I will."

“Good," V said, crossing his legs. "Before we start: Is there anything you want out of the way? Any hard limits I should know about, so we don't need to mention them again?”

Nero just stared at him. While the meaning of the word “hard limit” was easy to guess at least, it wasn't exactly something he had ever been asked before.

V looked at him expectantly, clearly waiting for _something_. The feeling of being tested returned, and this time Nero was pretty sure he was failing, too.

After another moment of silent observation, V dropped his gaze, sighing softly. He reclined in his seat before looking back at Nero.

“Enlighten me. Dante told me you were ‘new', but he didn't give me anything to work with. What, if _any_ , experience do you have, Nero?”

Nero had to force himself to ignore how his name rolled off that sinful tongue. This was the moment of truth. If V hadn't changed his mind yet, this was the point where that became a very real possibility.

Alas, Nero had to be honest here, and maybe, for once, without blushing and stuttering like an idiot.

“I…” he started and paused again, rethinking what exactly he wanted to say, “I've been wanting in on the BDSM community for years. Unfortunately, I went about it the completely wrong way. I didn't just want to meet anyone I got to know online, so I tried my luck on a website that promised phone contact with Doms,” Nero explained, grimacing at the memory. The more he thought about it, the stupider it sounded that he had even _hoped_ to get anything decent out of it.

“I see. My sympathies,” V said. “Out of curiosity: on a scale from ‘didn’t honor their own rules’ to 'didn’t even bother establishing them in the first place’, how bad were they?”

“Uh, the latter,” Nero was quick to reply. V scoffed, looking almost personally offended. “All three of them, in fact.”

At that, V’s eyes snapped back to him, disbelief written all over them.

“You tried _three_ times?”

Nero scratched the back of his head. Put like that it sounded really desperate… well, he had _been_ desperate; what else was he supposed to do back then?

“Well, I thought… benefit of the doubt and all that?”

It sounded like an excuse. It _had_ been his excuse back then.

“One might think you’re a masochist, Nero. Or you _really_ want to find a Dom.”

“I still do,” Nero said. That was why he was here, after all, the reason he had _begged_ V for a chance.

To his surprise, V huffed softly, one of his faintly amused smiles on his lips. He seemed almost _human_ like this and less like a God who had descended to walk among them. “I’ve seen that. Let me take an educated guess though: after that despairingly disappointing experience, three times over no less, you haven’t actually tried again until just the other day. Does that sound about right?”

Nero’s hand remained sheepishly buried in his own hair. He was already found out, so there was no point in denying it.  So far V hadn’t called their meeting off, at least.

“...That’s about right, I’m afraid.”

And then V said the one thing Nero had expected the _least_ : “That’s alright. We’ll just start at the beginning then.”

Nero was so caught off-guard by the easy acceptance that he fumbled with his next words even more. “But, uhm… if you don't mind me asking…”

“Hm?”

“You said this was a ‘business meeting’,” Nero said, hoping the question was obvious enough without him having to expand on it, but V merely continued looking at him curiously.

“But we're uhm… not exactly talking about business?”

“But we are. The business is _you_ , and what _I_ can do _for_ you,” V stated simply, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world, and Nero couldn't even begin to deny the hot flush of his cheeks this time.

“Okay… but then, why that request with my neck?” Nero asked, knowing he was fishing, though he himself wasn't actually sure for what, except maybe for a way to escape his own embarrassment.

V merely watched him for a moment, those green eyes looking as if he, too, was searching for the reasoning behind this line of questioning.

“Why not? I'm simply enjoying the view of such a blank canvas,” V replied nonchalantly, and Nero's eyes fell to V's own neck, the very opposite of his own, decorated with both ink and a choker. It was proof of V being anything but faint-hearted, trusting someone with a needle this close to such a vital area.

“While that is true, I also wanted to see whether you would follow simple orders. Alas, that is not the real reason you’re asking, though,” V mused, suddenly leaning forward in his chair. “You're nervous,” he said, still watching him with those calm eyes, “and you're trying to distract from it. I'm just not sure whether you're trying to distract me or yourself.”

Nero stared at him, surely gaping like a fish. He’d had a feeling that he was easy to read, but V? V just read him like a damn book, word for word.

"That is okay," V said after a moment, "I would still like to redirect your attention to the reason we're here, unless you want to ask _another_ question?”

Nero gulped. Was V _annoyed_ with him?

“N-no, sorry,” he apologized sheepishly.

“No. Don't ever apologize for asking questions, no matter how mundane they may seem." Nero looked at him like a deer caught in headlights. "It is my job to make sure you're comfortable enough to tell me _the moment_ something is amiss.  I’ll push you right up against your very limits, but I need you to understand that I’ll never do so with the intention of causing you actual discomfort.”

In the face of the sudden intensity in V’s voice, Nero could only nod his understanding, but of course that didn’t have the desired effect.

“Do you understand?” V asked again.

“Yes… I think.”

“You _think?_ ” V inquired, one perfect eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“I _do_ ,” Nero corrected himself. “I’m still nervous, is all,” he admitted.

V’s expression softened.

“Now that you’re being honest, we can work on that next. It’s understandable that you are. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Though you may be a little easier to read,” he added, resurrecting Nero’s blush once more. “But that’s why we’re establishing rules. By turning the unknown into something that can be anticipated and prepared for, your nervousness will diminish naturally. That being said, are you ready for the discussion at hand?”

Nero would probably never stop doubting himself, somehow afraid of messing this up by sheer stupidity or hotheadedness—he had a tendency for that, too, after all—but maybe he should start trusting V, actually trusting him. Everything he said was sound and logical. He was calm and surprisingly patient after seeming everything but the other day. He hadn’t scoffed and told Nero to leave the moment he had learned just how inexperienced he really was. Just the opposite in fact.

_'That’s alright. We’ll just start at the beginning then.'_

Nero took a deep breath and faced V directly. “Yeah,” he said, exhaling once, “I’m ready.”

V smiled. It was barely more than the _hint_ of a smile, really, and still, it was all the reward Nero could have asked for. He wanted V to keep smiling at him like that.

“Good. Before we go into any details, I need to know one thing from you.”

“Which is?”

“Why do you want a Dom?”

Nero paused, completely unprepared for the question.

" _Why?_ "

"There can be many reasons for someone to desire the company of a Dom," V elaborated. "I would like to know yours. What do you _want_ , Nero?"

"I… I don't…"

"Do you need a guiding hand? Do you want to be _freed_ from the responsibilities of your own actions? Do you want to put your pleasure into the hands of another?"

V's honey-sweet voice washed over him, filling Nero's mind with images that were indeed _stimulating_ , but still only seemed to touch on what Nero yearned for. But how to put into words what he _really_ wanted?

"Not quite?" V mused, seemingly trying to read him like he had often successfully done before. "Is it pain you seek? Do you want to be pushed to your limits? Do you need the threat of _punishment_ should you fail to obey a direct order?"

The honey quickly lost its sweetness at those words, and Nero shook his head. No. He could take a lot, he was _willing_ to take a lot, but pain was still a deterrent.

"Hm… I am not usually one for humiliation myself, but I have offered that, too, if a Sub desired so in the past."

For once, V himself seemed unsure. He had distanced himself further and further from what Nero believed to be the cue of his real desires. Nevertheless, what V revealed about himself intrigued him. He had seemed rather degrading yesterday. It surprised Nero to learn that it was apparently not something V sought for himself.

"You're not?"

"No. I'm a rather firm believer of the saying 'praise where praise is due'."

Nero was completely unprepared for the rush of heat those words evoked.

 _Praise_. That was the word that had escaped him before.

Observant as he was, Nero's reaction didn't go unnoticed by V. Gone was the trace of uncertainty, as if it had never existed, as a knowing smile overtook the man's face.

"I see," he said slowly, leaning forward onto the table, "you want to be a _good boy_ , hm? We can work with that."

Nero flushed, suddenly hotter than he had felt all evening. His body was moving without his knowledge, instinctively inching closer to the source of these _wonderful_ words.

A soft chuckle passed those perfect lips as V leaned back again, clearly enjoying himself. "Now, now. We still need those rules, so be a good boy now, and pay attention."

Oh, he had Nero's _undivided_ attention. If his name had sounded heavenly rolling from those lips, then Nero had no words for what that _pet name_ did to him.

Nero had no doubt that he must have looked absolutely lovestruck as he hung onto the Dom's every word. He knew this was important, so he tried to get his brain back on track, but it took an almost embarrassing amount of time until he could answer V's questions without needing to have them repeated at least once.

He had a feeling this was going to take some time...

\- - -

Nero had no memory of how they left the restaurant. His mind was too busy processing everything he had heard and learned in the past hour.

V's patience kept surprising Nero, especially when the Dom had caught on to just _how_ inexperienced Nero truly was. Many of the things V had mentioned Nero had never even _heard_ about. While Nero found himself curious to try a number of them, he had nothing to base his decision on, so V had advised him to revisit those topics later when he had gained some experience. Instead, V had focused on other things, like Nero's quickly discovered praise kink.

Just when Nero had been about to reach the limit of how much input he could realistically process in such a short time, V had declared that they had sufficiently covered the _basics_ for a first session. Nero felt dizzy just thinking about what a _detailed_ discussion with V would be like.

Still, the one thing that stood out in his recent memory was not even part of the discussion. No, it was a single question, in that _heavenly_ voice, that had been asked afterwards: _"Do you have any plans tonight?"_

The implication had been crystal clear, and Nero had never been quicker to confirm that he was absolutely, 100% free for the whole evening.

Which led to the here and now, and Nero blindly following the Dom.

"I don't feel like going back to the bar today," V remarked as they stepped back onto the sidewalk, "so consider this your lucky day."

Nero blinked. Honestly, he had not even thought about the whole "where" aspect. His mind was still busy working through the "how".

"Where are we going then?"

V turned to him, a secretive smile playing on his lips. "My _personal_ playroom," he answered nonchalantly, as if the mere implication wasn't enough to send Nero's mind reeling.

He would probably have missed the taxi pulling up in front of them entirely if it hadn’t been for V's cane tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

That smile was still in place when Nero snapped out of his trance, and looked at V.

"After you."

"Oh, uh, sure," he muttered distractedly as he got into the car with more trouble than such a simple action warranted.

He had no idea how far it was to their destination, and the sudden lack of a distraction offered the perfect opportunity for his nervousness to return.

When V got in as well and the taxi took off, Nero tried to watch the passing scenery to distract himself, but he could practically _feel_ V's presence next to him. The mere thought of what they were about to do had heat rushing to his cheeks, and his heart hammering in his chest.

He chanced a single glance to his left where V was watching him with a knowing smile. Nero could feel the heat travelling all the way down to his neck, and quickly averted his gaze. A soft sound, not quite a chuckle, reached his ears, and Nero just barely refrained from groaning.

So much for scenery watching...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, leave a kudos or a comment^^  
> I have a lot more DMC fics, so why not check them out, while you wait for the next chapter?^^  
> Or come yell at me on [tumblr](http://jjkmagic.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/JJKMagic) <3

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, leave a comment, or hit me up on [tumblr](http://jjkmagic.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/JJKMagic) to keep me motivated!^^
> 
> Constructive criticism is always welcome!


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